


Sweaters

by sharkinterviewee



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Humor, Lighthearted, Short & Sweet, Sweater weather, Sweaters, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, andy samberg - Freeform, in sweaters, that's all i have to leave you with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 09:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13972158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkinterviewee/pseuds/sharkinterviewee
Summary: Peraltiago drabble that only exists thanks to Andy Samberg in sweaters.





	Sweaters

Amy's abuela gives Jake sweaters, like, _all_ the time.

He can't  _not_ wear them, right? Jake's not a sweater guy. Rip off his plaid and put him in a solid color wool sweater and he's unrecognizable. He looks more like a responsible adult, but barely. More mature in the sense that he looks like a kid who stole his father's clothes, if his father was a librarian.

* * *

He does wear them though. Especially during the fall, as winter draws near. They're just so cozy and fit him just right. If anyone comments on it, he goes with the 'I can't just not wear these when they're from my girlfriend's grandma' excuse when asked what the deal is.

* * *

At least, that was his go to excuse. Until he stopped being able to use it. Because he was found out by the person whose grandma knits dastardly comfy sweaters.

* * *

It's a brisk autumn day, and he's at the kitchen counter making breakfast (at 11 AM) and completely off guard. He's also spent the morning wrapped up in the dark maroon sweater that's soft enough to legally be labeled a hug.

Amy notices this too.

“You know you don't really have to wear those,” she tells him with that affectionate smile on her face, hand on her hip as she nods down to his sweater clad chest. Goodness knows he looks _adorable_ in it, but Jake was practically married to his plaid/jacket combo. One of the things she's also noticed is that he's much more likely to thrown on one of the hand-knit sweaters in their apartment than when they're going out and about places. It clashes with his style. She thinks it's sweet that he's been wearing them more and more as the weather cools down lately. He just looks so cute in them, and she wants nothing more than to curl up and cuddle with him all day.

“I know,” he replies mindlessly, and keeps pouring his bowl of cereal that he just pulled out for breakfast. He's got a system. For making sure there's the perfect ratio of cereal to milk to guarantee he'll have a fantastic chocolate milk mustache by the end of this.

Amy rolls her eyes as he stoops down to the counter to watch very closely as he fills the bowl up almost to the brim with milk- his focus like that of a scientist mixing the two deadliest substances known to man.

Satisfied with his job, he takes a seat at the kitchen table to dig into his creation.

“Really, Jake. It's not a big hassle,” she begins again. “I can just put them in a box and hand them off to-”

“Wha-no,shuddup,don'ttouchthem-they'remine,” he says, without thinking. Without pausing and thinking of how to respond or what he's responding to- he definitely should've done that first, but he's always running his mouth off without thinking.

He's definitely regretting that habit of his when Amy starts grinning like a Cheshire cat and he knows he's in for some prime time teasing.

“You're such a _liar_!” She laughs. “You _love_ those sweaters! You don't wear them because it's 'not nice to not wear handmade gifts',” Amy quotes in her worst Jake Peralta impression. The one she uses exclusively when she's mocking him and something dumb he said. Or dumb excuses he's made. “You don't wear those out of obligation, you wear those because you _love_ them!”

Amy's absolutely gleeful, like she's already figured out a way to turn liking sweaters into some blackmail worthy material. He's not sure if he should be worried or not.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, cheeks coloring as he pushes his cereal around with his spoon.

“Oh my god, you're blushing!”

“I am not!” Jake denies, blushing even harder because of course.

“This is the cutest thing I've ever seen. Where's my phone?” Amy asks herself more than him, then darts off to the other room where she's left it.

“Amy! No! No pictures!”

 


End file.
